


Palliative

by Alecto (Unceasing_Anger)



Series: Left by You [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: A lot of hurt and not quite enough comfort from the right person, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, I'm Sorry, M/M, Minor Jean-Jacques Leroy/Yuri Plisetsky, Otabek Altin & Yuri Plisetsky Are Best Friends, Otabek is a good friend, Pliroy is only really background here, Post-Canon, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Unrequited Love, Yuri is hurting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:09:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22217563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unceasing_Anger/pseuds/Alecto
Summary: Palliative - /ˈpalɪətɪv/ -adj- relieving pain without dealing with the cause of the condition.“Why do you keep holding onto him?”“Because I’m a selfish, entitled brat.” Yuri laughed, sharp and bitter. “The universe gave him to me. He’s supposed to be mine and no one else’s.”
Relationships: Background Jean-Jacques Leroy/Yuri Plisetsky, Otabek Altin & Yuri Plisetsky, one-sided Jean-Jacques Leroy/Yuri Plisetsky
Series: Left by You [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1599334
Comments: 4
Kudos: 36
Collections: YOI Rare Pair Week 2020





	Palliative

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the YOI Rare Pair Week 2020.
> 
> Prompt: Day 1 - Soulmates.
> 
> Thank you, Jae, for the title, and Corru for the summary suggestion! <3

They were supposed to be inside, celebrating yet another of Yuri’s championships titles. He should be proud, boasting about his achievements, slamming down drinks, surrounded by people who admired and loved him, but here was their little champion. Alone in the cold outside, silhouette illuminated by the festivities inside the banquet hall. If he were any better with words, he could draw a metaphor about the scene that greeted him, Otabek was sure. 

Not wanting to startle Yuri, who was sat precariously on the railing of the balcony, Otabek called after him quietly, “Yura?” When he received a small noise of acknowledgement, he approached slowly, giving him enough time to tell him off in case he wanted to be alone. He took in the sight of him as best as he could. Dishevelled blond strands slipped out of his intricate braid, shoulders tense and hiked up almost to his ears, but most importantly, his sleeves were rolled up, baring his arms for anyone to see if they came across him.

Yuri was private about his soulmark, almost territorial over it. Otabek could remember the first time he had caught him with his arms bare; he had accidentally walked in on him in the locker room while he was changing out of a costume. The then sixteen-year-old flung himself out of view, almost bashing his head onto the floor as he dove behind a bench in an attempt to hide his arm. It was private, he would later explain, something that should be just for him and his soulmate.

That he had his arms out like this… 

With a heavy sigh, Otabek leaned forward and tugged Yuri by the waist, closer to him, further away from the ledge, offering a comfort, a steady presence that he knew wasn’t quite enough. Yes, it was greatly appreciated, as evidenced by Yuri resting an arm over his and twining their fingers together, but it wasn’t the touch Yuri hungered for, woke up crying most nights for. No, as much as Otabek could provide a temporary relief, he wasn’t who Yuri wanted.

“I thought you wanted to rub it in Viktor’s face that he’s no longer the only one with several grand slams.” He eventually broke the silence, trying to lighten the mood, pulling back slightly to study Yuri’s profile, brown eyes raking over his features. 

A soft huff, “I already did. He only went on to say he was happy I beat his records again. Idiot called me his son too.” The lack of heat in his voice… Otabek felt his stomach drop in worry. Yuri must be really feeling out of it if he wasn’t cursing Viktor out like he usually would whenever the man insinuated anything about the ‘podium family’. 

With a heavy sigh, he closed his eyes and rested his forehead against the back of Yuri’s neck, “Did something happen, Yura? You were fine earlier.”

“It hurts to see him.” The response was barely audible then, words so very quiet and fragile, unfitting for a man made out of blizzards and wildfires. “You’d think it would have stopped hurting by now, but I just- I feel him fading further and further away from me. Every single day, I feel the connection withering away more and more.” 

Otabek shifted, resting his chin on a bony shoulder as he lightly brushed his fingers against the soulmark covering the inside of Yuri’s arm. 

Rather than beautifully, fully-bloomed daffodils bursting with color and life, Yuri had a small wilting one instead, pale, sad and so very fragile looking, petals barely holding on. It was a slap to the face to someone who fully believed in the magic and romance of two halves of a whole coming together, to someone who had been so assured that this was something he could have. 

Where love and devotion should be found, there was only hurt and rejection. 

Another small shift, and Otabek brought Yuri closer to him as he felt him begin to tremble in his arms. “I’m sorry, Yura.” What else could he do but hold him close?

If Otabek was certain he could get away with it, he would have strangled JJ by now. He hadn’t minded the Canadian skater before - they had been rinkmates once upon a time, but his tune changed sharply when he found Yuri sobbing in Viktor’s arms after taking silver to JJ, frustrated by his loss and then by being in such close proximity to someone who was meant for him, but rejected him so openly. 

Beyond finding it somewhat distasteful that he was so blatantly public about it, especially since he was an internationally famous athlete, he hadn’t really cared about the fact that JJ didn’t care for his soulmate, didn’t like letting something decide who was supposed to love … but to see the normally boisterous blond, however, usually bursting with life and fire, reduced to hiccoughing sobs, seeking comfort from Viktor of all people… 

Otabek remembered thinking he had never felt so angry that he went numb as Yuri explained the situation to him once he calmed down enough, unable to do anything but stare as the blond laughed humorlessly at his own misfortune. It had taken a lot for him to not march up to JJ and punch his stupid face after that.

Now, four years later, he was just exhausted, tired of seeing his best friend get hurt over and over again. He turned his head, mumbling into Yuri’s neck a question he has asked several times before, “Why do you keep holding onto him?” 

“Because I’m a selfish, entitled brat.” Yuri laughed, sharp and bitter. “The universe gave him to me. He’s supposed to be mine and no one else’s.”

Abandoned by his mother at a young age, unacknowledged by his father, and when his soulmark had appeared on his tenth birthday, he had just moved away from Moscow, away from his deda’s little home to a much colder Saint Petersburg with strangers. Otabek couldn’t blame him for clinging so tightly to the idea of someone made just for him to have, for him to love and be loved by, but... “You have other people now, Yura. You’re no longer alone.” 

“I know, Beka. I have you.” It wasn’t the first time Yuri has said it but his heart couldn’t help but soar at the admission anyway. There was a finality to the words, no room for argument. It was just a given fact that Yuri had him. With a sigh that seemed to take all of his entire body to exhale, Yuri leaned his cheek against the top of his head, “It’s just… my heart aches for him, no matter if I talk to him or not. I just want him and it hurts that I can’t have him.”

“I wish I could take away the pain, Yura.” Otabek tilted his head up to press a kiss against Yuri’s cheek. “Do you want me to deck him in the face?” he asked with raised eyebrows, pulling back slightly to stare up at the blond. 

“You?” Yuri huffed a laugh, so very small but genuine nonetheless - which was what the Kazakh had been hoping for. “Punch someone with your delicate sensibilities? As if, Beka.”

“You know I will if you ask.” 

The hurt in Yuri’s eyes softened at how serious he was. “I know.”

A small smile tugged on Otabek’s mouth then as he pulled Yuri closer, squeezing him once then stepping back to give him space. “How about instead of sitting here alone and thinking about the jackass, we head back inside and drink all of the bad champagne in a corner?”

“Only for a little while?”

“One hour then we’ll make an escape to my room to watch some movies.”

That had Yuri turning around to face him, green eyes squinted. “Half an hour, and I’ll let you pick which one we start with.”

“No.” Otabek shook his head with a laugh, “Lilia and Viktor will kill me if I ‘kidnap’ you again.”

“Fine, one hour. Help me with my sleeves then.” 

As he rolled down the sleeves down, smoothing down the fabric, Otabek looked up at Yuri, then with a small smile, he said, “You know, before I came here, Viktor was making a toast about how proud he was of you.”

Huffing, Yuri rolled his eyes. “Fucking old man.” 

“He called you his son at least five times.”

“VIKTOR!” And there was his explosive temper. Yuri barely finished securing his sleeves again before he pushed Otabek out of the way and stomping back into the banquet hall.

Otabek stared after the blond for a brief second before following him inside. He was certain Viktor could forgive him for throwing him under the bus if it meant Yuri was distracted from wallowing over JJ. The corner of his mouth quirked up when he saw Yuri honing in on Viktor like a missile, storming past JJ and Isabella without sparing a glance. Yes, he was definitely certain Viktor would forgive him.


End file.
